


Dying from Exposure

by Blueskullcandy



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit and Remus are not evil or the bad guys here, Depictions of nightmares, Exposure therapy, Gen, No beta we die like mne, Video Game Mechanics, depictions of panic attacks, essentially, everyones favorite pastime on this site apparently, excessive references to disney, excessive references to video games, not clickbait, opps, this is a Virgil therapy session gone wrong, time to hurt virgil, virgil confronts all of the sides while trying to figure his own shit out, while operating in a video game-esque world created by roman, wow there isn't an official ao3 tag for remus yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskullcandy/pseuds/Blueskullcandy
Summary: After the revelations following Remus' introduction, Logan suggests a way for Virgil to acclimate to the "Dark Sides" showing up in Thomas' Life: Exposure Therapy.or: where Virgil is a reluctant video game protagonist, Logan, Patton, and Roman are in danger and simultaneously dangerous, and Deceit and Remus are along from the ride.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is my first work in the Sander Sides fandom so let me know what you think! 
> 
> Come scream at me @purpleskullcandy on Tumblr.

Virgil lifted one hand to the door, waited a beat, and then pulled it back to his chest, resuming his pacing. A sigh ghosted past his lips as his other hand brushed his purple fringe away from his face.

He really thought he was over this by now. This constant question of whether or not invitations to the other sides’ rooms were genuine or just another attempt to include the pitiful, lonely, little Anxiety.

_They don't really want you here. They’re just asking to be polite. You’re really taking advantage of them by coming._

Virgil tightened the hand in his hair, gripping the longer parts in the back as he screwed his eyes shut. A deep breath in. Hold. And… back out.

The anxious side let the muscles in his hand relax again, his hair falling past limp fingers as Virgil reached down farther to grip at the back of his neck. His pacing faltered and he turned to face the door.

_They want you here. They wouldn't have gone out of their way to ask you if they didn't._

Another breath in, held, and out. Virgil let the tension in his shoulders bleed out of him, slumping down into his hoodie as he reached out to knock on the bright red door with lightbulbs around its frame.

Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open.

Before him stood Roman in full princely regalia, silhouetted by the bright light spilling from the room behind him. The creative side smiled at him blindingly, making Virgil slump further into the comfortable lining of his jacket.

“Ah! There you are, my violet shaded vagabond! We simply cannot start without our player one!”

Roman’s hand snached Virgil’s wrist and before the darker side could react, and Virgil was pulled forward into the light.

Roman’s room in the mind palace was the room Virgil had visited the least. And by least, he meant never.

Obviously, he spent most of the time in his own room, the dark walls soothing his frayed nerves after a long day of interacting with literally anyone. There, he could recline onto his bed and slip on his over the headphones, allowing the worn in leather of the ear guards and the soothing tones of Castle of Glass melt away the ache behind his eyes.

He loved slipping under the covers of his bed, the coolness of inoccupation making the sheets slightly chilled. Laying down and feeling the bed turn from cold to warm with his body heat was a grounding sensation- something he could focus on when his brain was full of fluff or unwanted mutterings.

It was a safe space for him. When the others entered his room, they felt their own thoughts become more frazzled: even Logan was affected by the power of his room. Yet Virgil himself did not fear that feeling of Too Much rising from his stomach into his throat. The feeling of his blood flipping from too warm to too cold suddenly was like listening to a favorite song after not hearing it, the feeling of his skin prickling with doubt like a hug from a loved one. Or, at least how he imagined a hug would feel like. Patton had tried on multiple occasions, but Virgil had a knack of avoiding anything that made him too uncomfortable. He always was more Flight than Fight.

He did not enjoy feeling anxious per say, but the feeling was familiar. A favorite pair of shoes- the ones that you slip on everyday without having to tie them. They knew each other. It was him and he was it.

Next to his own room, Virgil spent most of his time in Logan’s room. Like his own room, Logan’s room was somewhat darker than the others, the lighting a facsimile of natural lighting Thomas would experience throughout a normal day if he were in a room with a few windows.

Logan said this was to ensure that he himself would not fall out of touch with the time of day that Thomas was experiencing and therefore he could at least attempt to mimic a natural circadian rhythm within Thoma’s own mind. Virgil though it was all covering for the fact that, despite Logan’s bookish nature, the dude loved, well, nature. Anything that could imitate real life and the outside was preferable to the stillness and sterility that the mind palace could become.

Beside the lighting, Logan’s room was outfitted with comfortable, ergonomic chairs, reading nooks, and a few small desks for writing. While most were often occupied with Logan’s own academic pursuits and interests, he always left the one near the corner open for any of the other sides. Patton came to color, saying the room helped him to focus on shading inside the lines. Roman came to write, saying that it was helpful to use this room for outlining before heading back to his own room to figuratively (and unfortunately sometimes literally) putting meat on the bones of his creations.

Virgil himself found the desk a great place to simply lounge and let his thoughts file into neat little compartments, no longer the dumpster fire it could sometimes become. Here, he could sort through his own mind, no longer bombarded by every last possibility he could come up with.

It was a calm room. One devoid of emotion.

However, just like his own room to the others, Logan’s room too could become overbearing.

Patton once likened spending too much time in Logan’s room to feeling your brain become lodged in jello, disconnected from everything, even your body. The clarity was good for a while, but became disconcerting after a while. Never concerning or worrying or anxiety inducing, but disconcerting. The room would not allow you to be concerned.

Logan called this feeling “dissociation from emotions.” Virgil called it terrifying. Disconnected from his feelings, Virgil was just a mess of improbability, sorted into a purple, edgy filing cabinet. He wasn't himself.

When he was sick of his own lonely four walls, and when Logan’s room became too much for him, Virgil often found himself in the common area.

The common area of the mind palace mirrored Thomas’ own living room area, complete with L-shaped couch and weird tan-yellow circle dot painting thing.

It was a good place to hang out, if one that was prone to interruptions. Patton often bustled around from place to place. The paternal side loved to have the TV on while he cooked or cleaned of just hung out, glancing at the screen every so often to laugh or gasp at the goings on of the characters.

Roman ran through often as well. Bouncing ideas off Logan if he was there, joking around with Patton while he worked, or watching the TV if he was feeling drained or in need of that little pick me up of inspiration.

Virgil himself could admit that white noise and unobtrusive company was exactly what he needed sometimes. But definitely not all the time.

Very rarely did Virgil find himself wanting to go into Patton’s room.

Despite its cute atmosphere and lovable occupant, Patton’s room really wasn't a place that Virgil needed to be. Sure, sometimes when Virgil was in need of a good cry session, he would make the short trek over to Morality’s room with headphones in hand and tissues stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

Patton would leave him a corner to himself, where Virgil could hunker down into one of the tacky, paw print covered bean bag chairs and… well. Lets just say that Virgil was glad that his eye shadow was a physical manifestation of his emotional state rather than actual makeup, or everyone would know what it was he got up to in Patton’s room.

Patton was nice enough not to bring it up with Virgil or the others, only offering a, “Better out than in, I always say!” in the worst impression of a scottish accent whenever Virgil got up to leave.

It never failed to put a smile on his face, even if his eyes were still a little red around the edges.

But other than those once in a blue moon meetings, Virgil never needed his emotions heightened. He was heightened enough as he was thank you very much.

Not to mention the fact that Patton’s room seemed intent on shifting to display its occupant’s past. Virgil _really_ never needed a reminder of what it was that was behind him. He thought about it enough as it was, without pictures materializing in front of tear filled eyes.

Yep. He was definitely in Patton’s room the least.

 _Well_ , Virgil thought as he flinched away from the blinding light of Roman’s room as he was pulled quickly through the threshold, _second least_.


	2. Chapter 2

“H-hold on!”

Virgil dug his heels into the ground, feeling carpet turn to … something else as he was dragged across the threshold of Roman’s room. Virgil’s eyes blinked rapidly, his eyesight whited out by the drastic shift in lighting from the hallway to the room.

“Oh calm down,” Roman huffed, readjusting his grip on Virgil as the darker side struggled. “No need to be such a Shy Guy, Virgil!”

As Roman continued to pull him forward, Virgil found himself blindly tripping over his own feet, and … rocks? 

Virgil wretched his wrist out of Roman’s grasp, bringing his hands up to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the other’s room. When the white spots finally faded from his vision, Virgil nearly felt his knees give out from shock.

Theoretically, Virgil knew that their rooms in the mind palace could change shape. Roman had showed the world this power when he turned the common room into a theater when Deceit had impersonated Patton. Deceit used this power again to turn the place into a courtroom for his prosecution of Thomas’ goodness.

Virgil had only used that power once: when all of the others and Thomas had entered his room. However, other than that, Virgil preferred to keep his room the boring four walls with posters and a bed that it always was. He found comfort in the predictability of it all.

He had seen Logan’s room transform from the mini library that it was during the day to a minimalistic bedroom for night time once when the logical side had accidentally fallen asleep at his desk while taking notes. Virgil quitely let himself out, stopping to place a blanket around Logan’s shoulders on his way out.

Virgil was sure that Patton’s room changed shape too at some point. Whenever he went in to relieve some pressure on the powderkeg that was his emotional state, he never saw a bed-- just beanbags, pillows, and blankets thrown around into a chaotic pillow fort. Surely the moral side didn't sleep in there all the time…

But Roman’s room made all of those adjustments seem like minor tweaks in comparison to the transformation his room must undergo. Virgil wasn't even sure he could really even call this place a room at all.

Before Virgil was a vast meadow, the long, green grass swaying in a slight breeze that Virgil felt gently ruffle the back of his hair. The open field was decorated with flowers that Virgil couldn't dream of naming, the blooms sprouting around the bases of small hills that rolled across the meadow, creating what looked like tiny rivers of color. 

Beyond the field sat an overflowing forrest, pines and conifers basking in the sun and shade of even taller redwoods. Past the forest, a mountain side cut across the sky, white outlining its peaks as silvery clouds tumbled over the sides of the rockface.

In short, it was beautiful. In short, it was massive. In short, it made no goddamn sense. 

“Like what you see?” Roman asked.

Virgil didn't even need to turn around to know that a victorious, smug smirk was plastered on the prince’s lips. He could hear it dripping from the other’s voice clear enough.

“It  _ is  _ pretty amazing, Princey,” Virgil admitted, eyes flashing from one sight to the next, before he turned fully to face Roman again, “... how unbelievably extra this whole place is, dude. Really fitting.”

“Oh hush,” Roman said, flipping a hand around his face before he landed in his signature pose, brown, curled hair glinting auburn in the harsh lighting. Virgil wondered briefly if Roman could control that too. The dramatic shit. 

“You’re just jealous because your dark and dreary dorm could never measure up to my regally redecorated realm of a room!”

Virgil shaded his eyes with a hand above his brow as he eyed the bright sky. “I wouldn't exactly call this place a room.”

Roman gasped melodramatically, a hand placed over his heart. 

“Excuse you!” he shrilled, hand on his chest moving to over his shoulder as he pointed his thumb behind himself, “This is totally a room. See? The door is right over there.”

Virgil shifted his weight onto one leg, leaning to see past Roman’s broad shoulders. Sure enough, a red door frame stood behind him, the doorway seemingly standing on its own in the middle of the field.

“As unfortunate a circumstance this is to make me utter such words, I must side with Roman,” Logan’s calm voice called from through the doorway, as he stepped forward into the light, followed closely by Patton.

“There aren't any walls,” Virgil heard himself protest, his mouth moving despite his shock at seeing the other two sides.

_ Well. Nice to know I can argue even when I’m too surprised to do anything else. Fight or Flight for the win, _ Virgil thought wryly.

Logan took a step to the side, now standing just in front of and to the left of the doorway. He raised one hand in front of him and formed it into a fist, before gently knocking against the open air. A soft, resonant sound echoed Logan’s actions, like he was tapping against a giant plane of glass. One of the logical side’s eyebrows rose, a small smile lighting his face.

“Huh. Invisible walls.” Virgil put his hands in his pockets, allowing a smile to mirror Logan’s own appear on his face. “Cool, I guess.”

Logan strode toward them, seemingly immune to the amazing sights the room held. Patton, meanwhile, was immediately side tracked by the flowers that stood near the doorway, bending down to pick a handful. Virgil could swear he heard the paternal side whisper, “What in carnation!” as he plucked the blooms, before racing to catch up with Logan.

“Yes,” Logan agreed, coming to a stop in front of Virgil and Roman, Patton coming to stand at his other side, flowers still in hand. “This is, by definition, a location that is enclosed by walls, therefore, making it a room. In fact,” Logan adjusted his glasses, “I would argue everything in the mind palace can itself be called a room, regardless of how massive it may appear, due to it being a construct enclosed within Thomas’ mind.”

“No wonder we can never mind our own business! We’re always head deep in someone else's!” Patton exclaimed, grinning sunnily. Virgil felt his shoulder untense slightly at the sight.

_ Good ole Padre. _

“Quite,” Logan said decisively. “Now, onto our reason for coming here.” He looked pointedly at Virgil.

Now that got the anxious side’s shoulders tense again.

“Reason? Roman just told me he wanted to show me some stuff in his room. He said he could ‘imagine me up’ something to take my mind off of whats been going on.”

Logan turned his steely gaze from Virgil to Roman while Patton leveled the creative side with a Disappointed Dad Look™

“Technically,” Roman started, a smile that screamed ‘caught with hand in the cookie jar’ on his face, “I told him we would find something to help him in here. That’s not  _ wrong! _ ”

“Well, you also know what you said isn't  _ right _ either,” Patton said sternly.

“A lie of omission,” Logan said in agreement.

“Well maybe I’m just getting into character!” he replied, defensively.

_ Into character? _

All three of the others were talking now, Logan’s cool tone underscoring Roman’s seemingly operatic voice movements as he jumped octave after octave in his own defense, Patton’s voice offering a staccato of rapid beats as he entered lecture mode, something he didn't do often. 

Virgil could feel himself spiraling to the music of their voices. 

“Maybe I’m just experimenting with method acting!” Roman. “You know how he feels about Dec- well, you know!” Patton. “It's a breach of trust.” Logan. 

Moving. Steady. Cool. Moving. Steady. Cool. Breath in. Hold… out.

“What are you talking about?” Virgil bit out, taking care to keep his voice steady, if somewhat strained. No need for his  _ other  _ voice.

The other three pulled apart. Roman was huffy. Patton seemed apologetic. Logan looked unaffected. They shared a look. 

_ They’re all in on it. Except me. Of course. _

“Well, kiddo, we saw how The Duke was getting to you the other day…” Patton started, eyebrows crinkled and lips pulled into a slight frown.

“And how Deceit gets to you, like, always,” Roman continued. His defensive attitude was long gone now, face nervous and concerned. 

“Right! So we thought we should try to find a way to help you deal with how you feel about the Dark Sides in a more productive way.”

Virgil felt ice drip down his spine and across his ribs. 

_ Oh. So it’s about that. _

Virgil hunched deeper into his hoodie, eyes cast down onto the green grass beneath his feet. It was a little too cheerful looking for his taste, or maybe it was just his souring mood that made him feel so.

“You guys don’t want me to overreact like last time and hurt Thomas.”

“Oh, kiddo!” Patton exclaimed, and even without taking his eyes off the ground, Virgil knew that Morality was waving his hands rapidly, as if to dispel whatever thoughts Virgil was having.

“We don't blame you! Remember, I was just as at fault for what happened as you were. We both… got overly concerned about The Duke.”

“Correct,” Logan said. “We are not here to blame you for something that has already passed. Not only is that an unproductive exercise that’s only use is to unrightfully lay the blame at someone’s feet, it does not help us to prepare how to handle the situation, should it arise again. Rather we want to pursue a course of action similar to that which I prescribed to Thomas.”

Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed together even as his eyes stayed firmly locked on the ground beneath his feet.

“What Kaepora Geabora over there is trying to say,” Roman cut in, “is that we think we can use some psychology to help you deal with the Dark Sides.” 

_ What? _

“What?” Virgil said, eyes flashing up and darting between the others as his eloquence left him, if he even had any to begin with.

“Essentially, we would like to try using a form of exposure therapy to help you when confronted with the aforementioned Dark Sides.”

The three others looked at Virgil with varying degrees of concern. Patton’s eyes, brown and expressive, seemed to flit from place to place on Virgil’s face, a butterfly not sure where to land to get the most amount of information. Roman’s face, meanwhile, was twisted into that look it now got whenever he forgot he wasn't supposed to insult Virgil anymore, but had accidentally made yet another joke at his expense. Eyebrows furrowed, mouth somewhat pursed, as though he wanted to apologize but couldn't bring himself to let the words slip between is lips. Logan, for his part, looked unaffected, though Virgil saw his eyes glimmer with  _ something _ .

Their combined gaze made Virgil  _ itch _ . And not just because their eyes were cast so firmly on him, but rather that they looked at him with not only concern but thinly veiled  _ hope _ .

_ They want to help me. They want to help me but they’re afraid I’ll refuse. They’re afraid I’ll run away. Afraid I’ll run away and hate them.  _

And the worst part was, they were right. Not that he would hate them, but that he wanted more than anything to run away.

Virgil felt cornered. He knows they didn't mean to--that they could  _ never  _ mean to because their own brains didn't make the twists and turns his own did whenever interacting with others. 

They didn’t mean to put him in a lose lose situation.

Because on the one hand, the words “exposure therapy” have been echoing in his mind since Logan had uttered them, the six syllabuls bouncing against the sides of his skull and repeatedly beating out a fear inducing rhythm in his brain. He isn't sure what they mean exactly, but they seem to imply facing something head on. Something he would much rather run away from. Run away to his room where the light is minimal, the room is small and blessedly lacking invisible walls or growing, living floors, where he can bury himself in his cold but warming sheets and ignore everything except the physical sensations he feels. So he doesn't have to _ feel. _

On the other hand, they are looking at him with hope. They want to help him and they all seem to genuinely think whatever they are doing will help him. 

If he were Patton, he would know that regardless of his answer, the moral side would continue to support him. Would continue to call him kiddo. If he were Roman, he would know that the prince would not treat him differently for rejecting their plan, even if he did moan and groan about it for the next few weeks. If he were Logan, he would know that even if he did deny them, Logan would not be dismayed. Set back a bit, but never out of ideas.

But he was none of them. Virgil was himself. He was Anxiety, and therefore, all he could see in his future was soul crushing disappointment if he let them down.

_ It’s because you’re a coward. _

He knew that. He knew he was a coward. It was in his nature. More than that. If he could borrow Logan’s words from earlier, he was by definition, a coward.

_ But _ , Virgil interrupted his own thoughts,  _ I can be a coward that doesn't disappoint his friends. _

“Okay,” Virgil said.

“Okay?” Roman echoed, awed disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah,” the anxious side said, taking a moment to look at each of them in turn as he continued. “I want to feel better.” Virgil took a deep breath, and forced a smile onto his face. He was sure the others could see how fake it was, but he wanted them to know. He was trying. “I want to help Thomas, even if it scares me.”

Patton’s smile could have blinded even the sun.  
  
"So," Virgil said, chest feeling warm and bubbly at the sight of the other side's proud smile. "What, _exactly_ are we doing?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation of sorts followed by a fall.

Before Logan began to explain, Roman lead the group further into the meadow, past the tree line to some shade. Miraculously (or not because Virgil was sure this place was at the creative side’s beck and call) there were four stumps bunched together for them to sit on when they arrived. 

Once they were situated, Logan stood, turning to look at each of them in turn before his eyes landed on the prince.

“Roman, if you would.”

Roman smiled, using one hand to gesture to the right of the logical side with a flourish. 

“No problemo, teach.”

A faint rumbling shook the stumps briefly, causing Patton and Vigil to grip the edges of the wood, as the ground split open around a silvery object coming to the surface. A screen rose from the grass at Logan’s side, dirt sliding off its sides as it grew to be around shoulder height. As it flicked to life without any apparent power source, a laser pointer appeared in the logical side’s right hand, eliciting an appreciative hum.

“I will ignore your blatantly incorrect ending for that word, even though it has clearly been established that you can speak spanish, due to the quality of the presentation set up you have provided for me.”

Roman huffed, slumping into an exaggerated pout with his arms crossed over his chest as he mumbled out a, “gender and language are made up” with the grumbly voice of a teenager sassing an authority figure. 

“What was that?” Logan questioned, face blank, but Virgil was sure he had heard what Roman had said if the sardonic look in his eyes was any indication. 

“I said ‘Are you ready to start this up?” Roman defended hurriedly. Virgil rolled his eyes and glanced at Patton who giggled softly at the exchange. They shared a look. 

_The two of them never quit._

“Yes,” Logan said decisively as he adjusted his glasses and aimed the laser pointer at the screen. “Quite ready.”

The screen flicked from its blank, white screen to what looked like something made in PowerPoint. The background was a dark grey, almost black color and large, teal letters spelled out, “Exposure Therapy for Beginners :)”

“I helped with the title,” Patton stage whispered brightly.

Logan sighed and waved his hand in the air. Virgil watched as the screen pixelated and then returned with a new screen that was titled, “Treatment Types”. There were a few bullet points with information that Virgil skimmed over. In the corner there was a clipart picture of a doctor putting a bandaid on a boy’s knee. The boy was badly photoshopped to have purple in his hair and smudges under his eyes.

“And I added transitions and clip art,” Roman said, similarly leaning in closer to Virgil and whispering loudly. Logan hushed them, the picture of an exasperated teacher. Patton apologise sunnily with a “Sorry Logan!” while Roman groaned and slumped further into his stump.

“As I was saying,” Logan said pointedly, “Exposure Therapy is a technique that was practiced by Joseph Wolpe and James G. Taylor during the 1950s before it grew into one of the main procedures used in behavioral therapy to, primarily, treat anxiety disorders.”

“It entails exposing the patient to the source of the anxiety,” Virgil felt his shoulder creep up toward his head as he tensed up. Logan made a placating motion with his hands. “ _Without_ the intention to cause any danger.”

“For example. Virgil what is the name of your spider?”

“Uhhh, Jeff?”

“Let’s say that we put Jeff and Patton in a room together...”

Patton sucked in a massive, full lunged gasp before shrieking, “You would have to _kill me_ first!”

“And we continued to do this every week for five months,” Logan continued, ignoring Patton’s reaction. “Eventually, Patton’s mind would note his continued safety despite what he had first thought to be an extreme danger to his continued health. Then, the next time he was confronted with a spider, whether it be in the room or in his everyday life, Patton may be able to realize that he was safe near a spider once before, and that this time he may be safe again.”

“That makes sense,” Virgil said. “For a spider at least. Spiders don't have ulterior motives. They don't even really mean any harm. But,” Virgil felt himself uncurl from his poor posture as anger and worry filled his lungs, making him bite out his next words. “Deceit and The Duke are _not_ spiders.”

Logan opened his mouth but Virgil kept going, bulldozing over what the other was saying.

“I _don’t_ need to learn that they’re safe because they _aren't._ If I let my guard down-!”

“We are not telling you not to be on guard, Virgil,” Logan cut in, his voice rising slightly. Vigil felt himself shrink again, the air leaving his lungs in a whoosh, deflating him.

_You made him mad..._

Logan took in a breath and glanced at Patton, whose eyebrows were furrowed as he nodded encouragingly at the logical side. Logan nodded back at him, and started again, with a lower voice

“We simply want you to be in charge of all of your emotional facilities should you be confronted with them.”

“What does that even mean?” Virgil asked, voice small.

Patton leaned over from his stump- closer Virgil’s side- close enough to offer comfort but not close enough to touch. He raised a hand, and let it hover over Virgil’s shoulder as he tried to meet eye-shadowed eyes for permission. Virgil relented and leaned into Morality’s hand, needing the comfort more than his personal space in the moment.

“What it means, kiddo, is that when we see… the others, you tend to get sort of locked into your emotions.”

Patton’s hand gripped Virgil’s hoodied shoulder, and Virgil had to remind himself that this was a reassurance and not something to hold him in place. Not something to trap him while someone poured poisoned words into his ears. 

This hand was warm. Warm blooded. A friend. 

“You get so trapped in your fear and anger,” Patton continued and Virgil could hear the notes of concern bleed into his words. More than concern though. Empathy.

Patton released his shoulder and stood from his stump. He kneeled down in front of Virgil, making himself eye level with the anxious side’s bowed head. He was flanked by Logan and Roman, whose faces were similarly twisted with variations of concern. A strained smile pulled at Patton’s lips but his brow remained furrowed.

“You feel it _so_ much, kiddo, I know you do. I can feel it too.”

“You’re scared for Thomas. You’re scared for us. You’re scared for yourself and angry at what they might do. You care so much!” And here Patton laughed. Not a happy laugh, but the small laugh of someone who just cleaned a room and then looked up and saw the state the rest of the house was in. 

“You care so much, Virgil. But you care so much that other emotions get pushed out by your waves of anxiety. They’re drowning in it. You’re drowning in it. We just… want to give you a floatie,” Patton finished, a more true smile lifting his brows and lighting up his eyes.

It was silent for a moment as Virgil took in what Patton said. And then he laughed a small but relieved laugh. A break in the tension.

Virgil peaked up at Patton through his fringe, a small smile pulling at this lips.

“You know, we don't say this enough, Padre, but you're really, _really_ smart.”

Patton’s face lit up as he giggled. He stood from his kneeled position, a hand once again clasping Virgil's shoulder and giving it a squeeze of reassurance as the paternal side took a seat on his designated stump again. Logan and Roman visibly relaxed too as the tense atmosphere around them shattered.

“So, you guys want me to confront Remus and Deceit to be able to _somewhat_ control my anxiety toward them whenever they talk to Thomas. So I stop messing him up,” Virgil clarified.

“This is as much for you as it is for Thomas, Virgil,” Logan added.” We want you to be able to operate comfortably in the mind palace, regardless of who you are with. We simply want to widen your arsenal of options should you encounter them on your own or with us.”

“Okay. So, what do I do? Just stroll over to Deceit’s room and ask to hang out for old times sake?”

“Not at all! This is where, yours truly comes in!” Roman announced with an air of grandeur.

The creative side twirled, leaves swirling around his as he did. The leaves picked up speed, and more foliage joined the mini tornado around Roman, until he was obscured completely by the oranges, greens, and browns of the forest.

Despite the flying leaves, the wind was silent. However, there was the sound of…

“I-is he singing?” Virgil sputtered.

“Ah, yes,” Logan started, adjusting his glasses as a bright orange leaf slapped itself over his nose before joining the maelstrom that was forming around the creative side. “I believe he is making a ‘Little Mermaid’ reference.”

Patton laughed as a train of flower petals ruffled through his hair. “Aren't you a little big to be a ‘Little Mermaid’?”

“Yessss,” a familiar, honied voice lisped out. The revolving leaves, dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Instead of the smug smile and shimmering auburn eyes of Roman, they were met with a sickeningly familiar face, a bowler hat skewed to the side and a singular, slitted, reptilian eye. Virgil felt himself tense up instinctively. “Yesss, I am.”

Not-Deceit lifted a green scaled brow ridge and grinned broadly, showing off his two, thin fangs.

“Will you walk into my parlor?”

It was silent for a moment. Not-Deceit’s smile faltered, falling from the sickenly suave smirk it had been to a more sheepish look that didn't fit the face it was on. Virgil felt himself uncurl.

_Nothing like the_ real _him._

“Didn't we just establish that he's not a spider?” Virgil settled on to break the silence.

“Yes, Roman. How would you even confuse an arthropod for a reptile? The startling difference in leg count should be at least a hint” 

“I did _not_ confuse them. I just thought it was thematically appropriate!”

“Tis the prettiest parlor you ever did spy!” Patton said, snapping his fingers in the cartoonish way one would when they remembered something.

Another beat of silence. Virgil thought he saw a tumble week bouncing in through the undergrowth behind Logan.

_God why was Roman always like this?_

“Right…” Logan started again. “As I was saying, before we went on this wildly uninformative tangent, there are two main kinds of exposure therapy methods: imaginative and in vivo, or, as one would say in english, in life.”

The screen next to Logan sputtered to life again from where it had fallen into its idle screen saver, which appeared to be the colorful balloon-y spike-y thing from the early 2000s. 

The screen showed two cartoon versions of Virgil. The first was sitting in a chair with his eyes closed. Above his head, small circles lead to an illustrated dream bubble where a smaller version of Virgil was sitting at a tea table with cartoon versions of Deceit and The Duke. 

In the second cartoon, Virgil was walking down a path that forked at the end. Down one pathway was Deceit and down the other was Remus.

Logan pointed to the first picture.

“The first entails simply thinking about an encounter with the source of the emotions.”

Then he pointed to the other. “The second is confronting the source in real life.”

“Which is where I come in, again!” Roman exclaimed.

Logan pushed his glasses up further on his nose. “Yes, that is correct.”

With another gesture of his hands, the image on the screen changed again. This time, the figure in the cartoon was clearly meant to be Thomas, as the figure was wearing a pink Steven Universe shirt used to identify him. He was laying in a bed, with a dream bubble above his head depicting all of the sides, Deceit and Remus included, holding hands.

“As Thomas has just fallen asleep, he will soon enter one of his REM cycles. During this time period, his imagination,” and here Logan gestured to Roman, “will begin to run rampant. Should we,” and now Logan gestured to himself, Patton, and Virgil, “ relinquish our hold on reality, Thomas will fully believe what is happening in his dream is reality.”

“In other words, we will allow Roman full creative control over Thomas’ dream. Using this control, Roman will be able to create realistic scenarios where you will confront Deceit and The Duke. Thus, you will reap the benefits of an ‘In Vivo’ exposure therapy session while being completely safe.”

“Hold on, back up,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “Wouldn't I know that we were in Thomas’ dream? I mean, you guys just walked me through what's going to happen. I would know that who I was talking to wasnt real, right?”

“Not necessarily. Think back to the last time Thomas had a vivid dream. Did you respond rationally to what was being depicted?”

The image of Thomas running up endless flights of stairs soared behind Virgil’s eyes. Thomas was running, and running, and becoming tired, but he couldn't stop- couldn't stop- or it would catch him. The water level rising and rising and rising as Thomas ran, the stairs in front of him already dripping wet as puddles began to form on them. Can’t stop or the water would get him. Can’ t stop or he would drown. Can’t stop can’t stop can’t stop cANT STOP CANT STOP YOU'RE GOING TO DROWN.

Virgil shook himself from the memory.

“Point taken,” he conceded. 

“Right. Patton and I will be in the dream as well to keep an eye on things. While we too will not realize it is a dream at the outset, due to my inability to truly accomplish any sort of suspension of disbelief, I will most likely be able to figure out what is going in in order to assist Roman.”

“And I’m going to put the moral in moral support, regardless of if it is a dream or not!” Patton added.

Logan sighed. “While I do not condone the use of word play here, I do appreciate the use of homophones in that one,” Logan said, begrudgingly.

Patton smiled at him brilliantly.

“Okay, so we’re really doing this now huh?” Virgil asked. “No real preparation? We’re just jumping in?”

“Roman was supposed to tell you what was going to happen tonight. We thought you being here meant you agreed,” Logan replied.

The creative side at least had the decency to look guilty, even while still wearing Deceit's face. It looked weird.

“You can have a night to sleep on it if you want kiddo,” Patton reassured.

“No, no. I already agreed. And you guys have obviously thought hard about this,” Virgil said, pointing to the PowerPoint. “I guess it just feels like we’re moving fast from my perspective.”

“But, I’m ready. I- I want to do this,” he finished, looking at them.

Patton nodded back, smiling. Roman stood and offered Virgil a hand up. Virgil took it and stood with them, now all standing in a little circle. Roman didn't let go of his hand and on Virgil’s right, he could see Patton holding out his hand. Virgil took it. Logan, somewhat reluctantly took hold of Roman’s other hand, while Patton swung the hand already connected to the logical side back and forth like a swing.

To put it simply, they were standing in a circle holding hands.

_We probably look so dumb._

Virgil closed his eyes, waited for something to change and then opened them again when nothing did. 

Patton’s eyes were squeezed shut, like he could will the world to change just using the force of his eyelids. Logan, meanwhile, was staring at Roman with an expectant look on his face.

“How are we supposed to do this?” 

“Well, for starters, you and Logan have to stop thinking so hard. You have to want to let go of reality. You just have to… uhhhhhhh… Oh, how about this?”

Roman began humming a familiar song and in a second, Virgil’s mind began filling in the missing lyrics automatically. Damn Thomas and his love for Disney.

_Think of a wonderful thought_

_Any merry little thought_

As the words spilled into his head, Virgil swore he felt _something._

It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He could breathe more easily and, for the first time since they arrived in the Roman’s room, Virgil could _feel_ the warmth of the sun as it slipped from between the leaves of the trees.

_Think of Christmas, think of snow_

_Think of sleigh bells off you go!_

Taking another deep breath in, Virgil could smell the pine of the trees. He could feel the crispness of the air as it entered his lungs and he felt the invisible breeze that has been shaking the branches since they arrived.

It _felt_ real for the first time. It felt _good._

Everything was going to be okay.

_Like a reindeer in the sky…_

_…_

_…_

  


But instead of rising from the ground to soar above the trees, Virgil felt the ground under his feet disappear. Roman and Patton’s hands were ripped from his grasp as he fell. Down, Down, Down.

Brown, shadowed eyes flew open but the greens and oranges and greys of the forest were absent, replaced with growing darkness as the light flew farther and farther away from his grasp.

The warmth was gone, the smell along with it, and the breeze turned to a squall rushing past Virgil's face as he fell faster and faster into the nothing below.

Virgil tried to scream, but found his stomach up in his lungs, punching all air from his chest as the light above him disappeared completely. Tears dripped upward from his eyes into his hair. He was suffocating in the dark, alone.

  
Yet, in his head still rang the words, _You can fly! You can fly! You can fly_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put a lot of work into this one folks! Please, please, please, let me know what you think below in the comments.
> 
> Also, hit me up on Tumblr @Purpleskullcandys !


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